Another kind of surprising letter
by MaladaptiveDaydream
Summary: For now this is a one-shot on the whole Marriage-law thing. Just a little bit of the trios life after the war. Hermione receives her unexpected match. And no: It is not Draco Malfoy. Sorry Dramione-shippers :P


RONS POV

"Hermione? Hermione?... Okay this is getting scary now", Ron Weasley waved a half-finished toast so near to his bushy haired friends face, that she flinched back. "It lives!", he made a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood.

"T-that was rude", Hermione said mechanically. _No half-grinning half-eye-rolling remark. No suggestions to what manners I am lacking_... Something was very wrong, and given the letter in her hand, even he could guess what. Ron took a huge bite out of the toast. He felt like this was a situation calling for a huge bite.

"So?", Harry asked tentatively. _Of course. Leave it to Harry to ask with a shred of tact._ The star of their little trio had set aside his own breakfast, and reached across the table to put a supporting hand on Hermiones forearm. _If we were a band he would totally be the bass-playing lead-singer, and Hermione would play guitar and sing background. I would be playing drums. Like a ginger Ringo Star._

"Excuse me!", Hermione got up fast enough to knock over her chair, and fumbled to set it back up. "I am so sorry Mrs. Weasley, I´ll fix it", it slipped from her hands again and clattered to the floor. "Oh, that´s quite alright dear, I can do it", Ron´s Mom offered. Hermione nodded, mumbled a quick thank you and thundered up the stairs to her and Ginnys room.

"Er...?", Ron looked to Ginny and Harry for clues. He did _sometimes_ miss out on Hermiones more delicate states of heart and mind. He just wasn´t very attentive that way. "I didn´t screw up, did I? It was just the letter, right?", he asked the two of them, while his Mom set Hermiones chair back up.

"She hardly ate at all", his mother sighed and picked the plate up. "I´ll think I´ll make her waffles later. Don´t you think she would like that? Hermione does love waffles, right?", Ron noted, that his mothers hands were shaking. Ever since the war all of them had developed strange habits. Little or big obsessions. Coping methods. His mothers was to care even more for people and produce more food than even their family could eat.

"Yeah, Mom. Hermione does love waffles", Ginny said softly. "Right. Right", Ginny and Ron exchanged a look, while their mother blinked rapidly. "I´ll just go wip up some dough then", she hurried back to the kitchen. "Maybe I could make some hot cherry-sauce...", she mumbled under her breath.

"What", Ron pointed at the kitchen "are we gonna do about that anyway?"

"Be quiet, Ron", Ginny snapped "She is doing her best"

" _She_ is burning through our resources. We can´t afford to keep her cooking all day. Neither should she work all day! There used to be times, when she would sit down and _enjoy_ what she made", Ron sighed and put his toast down. He had lost his appetite.

"She´ll- she´ll get it... eventually", but Ginny sounded like she was asking them. Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and squeezed her hand. Ron noticed the rings under his eyes. Usually the shadow of his glasses covered them, but when he moved them, one could see the grayish lines. His friend looked worn. All of his friends still did these days. And his family...

Ginny and Harry only held hands, innocent enough, but Ron could see their knuckles turn white. They were clinging to each other.

"So...", he cleared his throat "who do you think it was?", he asked the question everybody was thinking. Harry looked up to the ceiling, as if he could see Hermione sitting in Rons old room at the top of the Burrow. "She will tell us in time. You know her. Whenever something big comes up she needs time to sort it out on her own"

"Yeah... it´s just that she isn´t alone. Not since she got the letter..."

"Er-", Ginny cleared her throat "Are you alright?", she asked tentatively. Ron had to chuckle. _I am so not the only one misunderstanding other peoples emotions_. "I _told_ you Hermione and I agreed to be just friends".

Ron could be wrong, but he thought he detected a slight bit of pity in his sisters too understanding nods. "We kissed, it was gros, we are just fine", he reassured her. "Of course... I am glad". _Definitely pitying me!_

Ron snorted "It _was_ mutual!", he blurted out the only thing, that could set his littles sister further down the wrong path. He sighed. "It felt like kissing my sister. Like kissing you, it was just... wrong"

"Ew", Ginny made a face at him. "Exactly", Ron pointed his fork at her disgusted expression "And if you don´t start believing, that _neither_ Hermione _nor_ me are still pining after the other, I will _not_ hesitate to kiss you, to bring my point across!", he threatened. "Sorry in advance, mate", he added towards Harry.

"Don´t you dare!", Ginny squealed. "Than don´t make me", he retorted. _Whoever thought that pig-headedness and blunt force never got you anywhere, had clearly never tried it._ Ron winked at Ginny, who seemed to be debating whether to be angry at him, or not.

"George!", Ginny exclaimed, when their brother entered the kitchen. She and Harry plastered smiles on their faces and made an effort to look happy to see George. Well, they tried not to look like they were pitying him, which Ron did understand. However he was not inclined to let George just slip by, with all sorts of grieving and shit.

Yes, it was horrible, that Fred was dead, but George wasn´t the only bloody person to have lost a brother. He was however the person letting Freds legacy go to waste. "Sit", Ron pulled out the chair next to himself. "We _have_ to talk about the books today".

George flinched. Or maybe it was the breeze coming through the kitchen-window. _At this point either could shake him._

Truth be told Ron had seen dead people looking more alive than George. But all dead people had one thing in common: They were dead. They did not have to breathe or live or eat. Ron thought, that if you could give a dead person a task and they had to do all that again. Had to breathe and live and eat again, until their task was done, then they might just look like George.

His brothers skin had a gray tinge, he had lost so much weight, that Ron could actually see the outlines of his ribs through his shirt, and the flaming red of his hair had somehow been extinguished. Or maybe it was just that his hair was getting more brittle and dull by the day.

His brother had died. Or part of him anyway, but he still had to live on. Ron didn´t understand how that worked. He was stumped by that. But than he had been since Freds death three months ago. However he _was_ stumped by running a shop too. Somehow everyone had been busy and not thinking about it, until Verity suddenly appeared at the Burrow and told them, they had do to _something_ , if they didn´t want to go bankrupt.

In the beginning the whole family helped out. Ginny had been stocking shelves, Percy had done the books and Ron, who had been the worst, the least organized and the slowest at each of those tasks, had somehow ended up having to take them all over. Ginny had school now, Bill had a child on the way Percy had collapsed under the combined workload of his ministry-job and the store. So Ron had gotten a guilty conscience and promised him, he could handle it with Verity, if Percy would just look over it every once in while.

And Percy- that git- had given a speech of how proud he was of his little brother, and how he had always known, hat Ron would step up and take responsibility ever since becoming a prefect and so on. All that bullshit. Only... that it had been _really_ nice. Like really great.

It had felt great to have someone believe in him like that. And the thought, that he could step up. Accomplish something all on his own was... intoxicating. Much more than any schoolboy-idea of Quidditch-cups and grades could ever have been.

 _Only that I am not doing all that brilliant..._ He was keeping the store open, yes. He could do that much. But he needed a boost of that brilliance that, like always, some other sibling posessed. In this case Fred and George... Right. Just George. That was if George could do that without Fred. If he could do anything without Fred... Which was becoming less likely by the day.

"Ron!", Ginny scolded. "Don´t be ridiculous! George _owns_ the store. He will look at the books, when he wants. Take care of stuff, you don´t wanna do. That is what staff is for, right?", she winked at George. Because _George_ was everybodys fucking hero just for appearing to breakfast for once.

"Well, actually-"

"Ron", his mother shook her head at him. "Do you want some eggs, sweetie? And bacon, yes? I am gonna make you some, and some nice buttered toast to put some weight back on those ribs".

Their Mom flicked her wand to get the cooking started and bustled over carrying a plate and cutlery. She hugged George, who had taken the seat next to Ron with his knees drawn to his chest, and pressed a kiss on his tosseled hair. George stared out of the window into the cool August morning. A shiver ran down his spine and he pulled his sleeves lower. Over his scars.

"Right...", his mother blinked away, what was stressing her, and smiled warmly again. "It really is chilly. Ron would you be a dear and close that window?".

It was all Ron could do not to scream. "Pig is still out", he said lamely, already getting up. He would be shot down. "Pig can use your window!", his mother snapped, and blinked, because she never snapped at her kids just like that. But the moment passed and she threw herself into making breakfast again.

Rons hands trembled. He had half a mind to crash the stupid window! He knew what people could do. Glass always felt so solid, but if he wanted it, he could put his fist right through it. He imagined what they would look like. Their faces. The shock, if he just did that.

But of course he couldn´t.

Ron managed to close the window and quickly stuffed his fists into his jeans-pockets, before he could do something stupid.

He turned to George, who was staring at the same spot, he had been staring at before. Only that Ron was there now instead of the cloudy sky. He doubted that it made a difference.

"We do have to look at it one day though", he watched his brother very carefully. "Ron!", Ginny gave him another very meaningful look. It was one of the _Don´t-do-that, don´t-say-that, don´t-pressure-him_ sort, which he got all the time now. Harry, Ron noticed kept his head down, and avoided his eyes. _He agrees. He agrees, but he won´t tell._

"What do you think, mate?"

"Me?", Harry looked around the kitchen, clearly hoping someone else was meant. "Yeah. What do you think? Should George take a look? At the books, at the newspapers, at the clock? Maybe just the garden?".

Harry shifted in his seat. "Harry?", Ginny was looking at him from somewhere between bewilderment and fear. The plea for him to say the "right" thing. The nice and easy thing was so obvious. "I don´t know...", Harry avoided his eyes. The boy who had faced Voldemort avoided Rons eyes.

Ron laughed. "You-you don´t know?", he gasped and clutched his stomach. "Oh- Oh Merlin! You are a poster-child for Gryffindor. You have guts Harry! Go, on!"

"It´s not my place...", Harry mumbled. _Of course. This again!_ The smile was most effectively wiped from Rons face. "What the fuck! Not this again!"

"Ronald Billius Weasley, language!", his mother had both hands on her hips. And usually Ron would have been scared like hell, only that he really, really, really had to knock some sense into Harry first. So he grabbed his best friend by the shoulder and shook him. "Listen to me! For the hundreth time: You _are_ our family! You can piss of whoever you want, you can say `What the fuck`, for all I care you can side wih the gnomes in the war for our garden. We-will-not-kick-you-out. You-are-family! Got that?".

Harry looked down, but he smiled a little. "Thank you", he said. Which was progress. Ron was baffled, that he had done that with his continued insistence to tell Harry to be a dick to them all, if he felt like it.

"Er- Good. Come on Georgie! You´re next. Say `What the fuck´", Ron clapped his brother on the shoulder. George looked up to him and just maybe saw him too.

"I swear, Mom will totally let you get away with that one. You haven´t spoken since when? May?". Predictably everyone felt the need to yell `Ron` again. This time Harry did too. "Yeah, whatever", he waved their concern off. "It´s not like you are listening to me right?", he petted Georges cheek. Old George would have never let him get away with tha, but now Rons brother looked past him into the emptiness, just like before.

Ron felt the need to box him in the bro-sorta-way. "I´m gonna get back to you later, try actually eating something till´ then", he said. They often did this- Spoke to George, as if he would listen or answer, to include him in their lifes and conversations.

"Where are you going?", Harry asked.

"Isn´t it obvious? I am going upstairs to badger Hermione! The ministry _did_ just send her a letter telling her her match in that stupid marriage-law thing"

"I thought we agreed, that she needed to figure things out on her own..."  
"Of course. Only that I am _really_ curious"

"...", the temptation was written all over Harrys face. "No... We need to respect her privacy". Ginny next to him scowled. "One could say we need to show her our support", she mused. They were following Ron up the stairs, before he had reached the first landing.

He had given his room to Hermione as a birthday present for Ginny. Because Hermione had been staying in Ginnys room, like his Mom insisted, and Ron had shared with Harry. He had gotten really sick of that arrangement, which always involved changing rooms and sneaking around, when he had just gotten comfortable and warm.

So behind their parents backs he had given Ginny the much-appreciated present, of sharing a room with her boyfriend, housing Hermione in his old room. He was sleeping on a mattress in Fred and Georges old room, ever since George had been released from the mind-mending unit of St. Mungo´s after attempting suicide months ago. _Not that those idiots mended very much_...

"Mione?", Ron knocked, knew better than to expect a `Come in` and pushed the door open. Hermione was starring out of the small window, one hand clutched to her mouth her letter firmly clutched in her other hand for the re-read Ron had seen her doing of so many things in the past.

"You okay, Mione?", he asked. Hermione blinked wide-eyed and turned around starring at him. "I guess. I mean I knew this was coming for weeks. We all did", she tried to reason and didn´t blink like Pigwidgeon, when he was excited, which was always.

"It´s alright Hermione, it is still bound to be a shock. Being suddenly told who you are going to have kids with must be...", Harry searched for the nice word for ´traumatizing´ "Surprising", he finished and attempted a reassuring smile.

"When you are ready, we are right here. There for you", Ginny hugged her best friend, bringing some life back to Hermione, as she moved to return the hug. Ron was feeling increasingly unhelpful. Also he really hoped her next sentence wouldn´t include the words Draco Malfoy. The realization, that _someone somewhere_ would end up with the ferret hit him like a bag full of dragon dung.

"Oh sweet Merlin!", he grabbed Hermiones shoulders and shook her so hard, that he heard her teeth clatter. "Mione! It´s not the ferret is it? Tell me you aren´t marrying Draco Malfoy!".

"Ron! Ron, stop that!", she pushed his hands aside. Ron suddenly felt very dizzy and grabbed for the wall behind him to support him. "Oh Godrics panties, it _is_ Malfoy, isn´t it?", he was suddenly very sure, that he would be sick.

"No!", Hermione snapped the single most beautiful syllable in the English language at him. "Get yourself together", she reprimated and took a deep breath, re-reading her letter as predicted. Ron, who had broken into a slight cold sweat wiped his forhead and sighed. He still leaned on the wall for support though and exchanged a look with Harry, whose dark eyebrows had vanished under the part of his black messy hair, that covered his forehead.

Ron found it hilarious, that his friend really thought covering his lightning-bolt scar would keep people from recognizing and randomly thanking him in the streets. _As if there was one child in wizarding Britain, who didn´t know Harry Potters face._

"So...?", Ginnys tone was tentatively "Who is it?"

"I don´t know", Hermione avoided their eyes and turned around opting to look out over the garden, where Ron spotted a gnome sneaking back into their garden through a hole, the gnomes must have dug under the fence.

 _Getting you later_ , Ron gave the creature his most predatory stare and memorized the point in the fence, where the gnomes had dug the hole. He regularly checked the fence, but there were new holes every few weeks.

"What do you mean you don´t know? You just got your letter", Ron said. Hermione took a deep breath, than thought differently about it and sighed eyeing them all very cautiously, as if she was weighing them up.

"You don´t have to tell us", Harry quickly offered "I mean, I _will_ be disappointed, if I am not invited to the wedding, but you totally don´t have to tell us today"

Hermione smiled. "I... I suppose it´s alright. I erm- I actually don´t know who". She briefly scanned the leter again and handed it to Ron with a sigh. Ron was surprised, that she had picked him. Usually when it came to emotional things and sensitive subjects Harry was her go-to-guy.

" _Dear Ms. Hermione Jean Granger under the newly instigated Marriage-Law under paragraph..._ blah blah legal bullshit", Ron summed up a lot of text and skipped to the section, where the name of the spouse was supposed to be printed in bolt letters. At least the example-notification in the _Daily Prophet_ had shown it like this.

" _We are pleased to inform you, that we have made a promising match between you and:_ _ **No-one**_ ", Ron blinked. Hermione hadn´t been kidding.

"What, she won´t get to marry anyone?", Ginny gasped.

"Hang on", Ron swallowed hard and read on. " _Since the special circumstances under the paragraphs-_ again legal stuff- A lot of paragraphs. Numbers fouty-two to like sixty-seven _apply to you, we have made two matches for you, likely to secure your happy future. Please let us know your answer, whether you want to make use of the protocols applying to your situation by return-owl immediately. Yours sincerely Mafalda Hopkirk._ What a load of waffle! What on earth do they mean with special situation?", Ron looked to Hermione for an answer. He always did, even when she seemed at a loss like right now.

"So they made two matches and you get to pick?", Ginny asked "That sounds great! You will actually have a bit of a choice, Mione". But Hermione shook her head. "Didn´t you read the article in the _Daily Prophet_ on special circumstances?".

"Er- I don´t get it either", Ron pitched in. "I totally read the article, I just don´t remember the _exact_ wording... or much of it at all".

Hermione rolled her eyes "Of course, and why bother with something, that only decides the rest of our lifes?", she frowned at Ron. "It is the special circumstances for... homosexual people".

"Oh", Ginny blushed "You are telling us...?"

"No!", Hermione waved of, but doubt took over her features. "I mean... I don´t know. How would I? They just- Homosexuals aren´t exempt from the law. They have to marry too, form families, raise children. Help increase the population"

"So? What does it have to do with you?", Ron wanted to know.

Hermione went very pink. "Well I am apparently a good match for someone out there, who", she stared at the floor purposefully avoiding their eyes "likes girls", she finished lamely. Rons jaw dropped. It was silent enough for him to hear it drop. "Oh", Ginny giggled nervously. Harry mirrored Rons own expression.

"Well of course they don´t expect me to figure out... well _everything_ on the spot. There are so few gay witches and wizards. A small community in a small community, you know? I have to choose now. I can pick the straight match right now, settle for a guy I don´t know. Or... I could date the girl, see if this is... something for me. But of course if I pick that option, and find out I am straight after all, there is a chance all the guys, who would have been a good match are gone. Legally the ministry can only force you to marry of ou have a fifty percent match or higher, so I wouldn´t be stuck with someone _completely_ unikely... But still...", she went on and on trying to voice all the thoughts and scenarios her brain had spit out. Which were a lot.

Hermione was remarkably clever after all.

The other three just stared or, in Ginnys case, giggled. "Hermione", Harry finally cleared his throat. He put a hand on her shoulder and took a deep breath. "You can think about it all you like, I am afraid you will have to follow your heart in the end though".

"Or your-", Harry elbowed Ginny before she could finish the sentence and gave Hermione an innocent smile.

"What do you think?", Hermione, to Rons utter surprise, turned to him. "Well", he shrugged. "I don´t wanna be _that_ guy. And as a sort-of-almost-ex I probably shouldn´t be saying anything at all-"

"Please, Ron", Hermione grabbed his arm, her warm brown eyes pleading. "As a friend, what do you think?".

Ron cleared his throat. "Between your track-record of pumpkin-head and myself", he shrugged "I think you ought to give it a shot. You think to much. You are obviously interested, otherwise you wouldn´t be considering it".

"Oh Merlin, that is true", Hermione sunk down on the bed. "I _am_ considering it. Me... with..."

"A girl", Ginny supplied and started giggeling again, until Harry shut her up with another elbow. "No matter who or what. We are there for you Hermione", Harry took Hermiones hand and squeezed it.

"So?", Ron asked "What are you going to answer?"


End file.
